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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551719">when gravity collapsed (so did we)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiraethia/pseuds/hiraethia'>hiraethia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>parallel universes (aka my prompt fills) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All For The Game - Nora Sakavic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Andrew Minyard Loves Neil Josten, Angst, Break Up, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, nothing like getting drunk and spilling all your feelings to your 'ex' huh, second part has some comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:29:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,212</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551719</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiraethia/pseuds/hiraethia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“When did you stop loving me?”</p><p>Andrew froze. </p><p>Neil twitched with another hiccup. “I needa know. Pl - mm. When?” </p><p>Andrew stared at him. They were close enough together that he could count each of the constellations that had fallen upon Neil’s cheeks. </p><p>Dimly, he wondered what stars felt like when they died.</p><p>“I didn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>  <i>(from tumblr prompts: "how am i supposed to go on?" "when did you stop loving me?" &amp; "when did things fall apart?")</i></p><p>now with a part 2 <i>(from tumblr prompts: "can i have one last kiss?" &amp; "how do we fix this?")</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>parallel universes (aka my prompt fills) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774495</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>473</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><strong>warnings</strong>: panic attacks, implied past child abuse/sexual assault (but it's very vague), descriptions of injuries (again, not explicit imagery), mentions of vomiting</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The warning couldn’t have come at a worse time.</p><p>Between the panic attacks and nightmares that kept waking him up in the middle of the night, the memories that haunted him and nipped at his heels even in the daylight, and the growing pressures of a season and new team with far more eyes on it than ever before - Neil was wearing himself thin. </p><p>He hadn’t been playing as well. He was distracted, missed one too many shots, and couldn’t catch up. Even if it had only been for the last couple of games, any misstep had a cost - and Neil guessed Ichirou was smart (or merciful) enough to put out the spark before it ignited the entire empire.</p><p>Neil had given up on trying to study for his next math exam when his phone suddenly buzzed. He frowned, dropping the pencil and picking it up. He’d muted many of the texts and chats his family had forced him into, mostly because he couldn’t afford to get sidetracked by Nicky’s jokes and Allison’s many arguments with Kevin. He wasn’t supposed to be getting any notifications now.</p><p>So when he turned on his messages, the world seemed to stop and fall out from under his feet at the sight of the unknown number.</p><p><em> This is your first warning, </em> the message read. <em> If you continue to become distracted, then it will be your teammates who take the fall. Who will be first? </em></p><p>Neil didn’t need to be a genius to figure out who it would be: Andrew.</p><p>Andrew, who had somehow become his anchor, a hand on the back of his neck and a deep voice and a quiet “Breathe.” Andrew, who offered him promises on calloused and scarred fingers, who kissed him hard enough to briefly blow apart his myriad of issues like smoke. </p><p>Andrew, who, for all his walls and heart and touches, was home.</p><p>The panic struck Neil like lightning. His phone slid out of his grasp with a deafening thud, and he stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair. Vision swimming, Neil gripped desperately onto the edge of his desk, breaths leaving him in short, cut-off noises. Pain flared in his chest, and with one hand Neil gripped onto his shirt, pulling harshly like he could rip himself open for relief.</p><p>He didn’t know how much time he lost to his panic. He’d counted to a hundred and back over and over again in every language he knew, ran through every single math formula he’d ever memorized, stumbling and tripping over numbers until he fell back into reality.</p><p>A reality where - </p><p>Neil had been raised on actions without warnings. He’d learned this before even figuring out how to speak: that the world wouldn’t give him the courtesy of knowing when he was about to be hurt. He didn’t get that privilege, and the brutal reminders of that lesson would always rest in the iron scar on his shoulder that still burned. </p><p>So when he <em> did </em>get a warning - a meager offering from a universe that had grabbed too big a handful of cruelty - he took it seriously.</p><p>When Andrew came back from class, Neil was already sitting by the kitchen counter. It was just them that afternoon, them and the crushing weight on Neil’s chest when Andrew raised an eyebrow at him. </p><p>“Andrew,” he forced himself to say. He hoped Andrew wouldn’t notice the way his voice trembled with his name. The goalie paused in his movements, turning toward him. </p><p>“Neil,” he said.</p><p>“This is nothing.” Neil’s stomach kept turning, over and over again, with roiling guilt and familiar chants of <em> liar, liar, </em>liar. The words threatened to gouge him open, from inside out, and if they did, Andrew would see all his ugly blackness and grief spill right out. </p><p>But Andrew just looked at Neil. His dark gaze, seemingly blank, swam with questions.</p><p>“This is nothing,” Neil carefully repeated, “and let’s make it stay that way. Okay, Andrew?”</p><p>“Neil, what is this about?” Andrew asked. There was a strange tightness to his voice, and Neil was the one to put it there, and the thought of it alone tasted like cyanide. </p><p>“It’s okay, Andrew,” he murmured. “I’m not going to run. I’m staying. I just - I want to stay at nothing.”</p><p>It tore him apart, playing with Andrew’s trust and breaking his promises this way - but Ichirou had said it himself. Neil was a Wesninski at heart. And Wesninskis couldn’t be happy. Wesninskis were born with destruction in their veins.</p><p>Andrew’s jaw clenched, alongside his fists. He stood too still, like moving would be too much. Neil wanted to look away from him, but he couldn’t force himself to.</p><p>(He had always been beautiful, even in these moments. Fire glowed behind hazel eyes - colors that remained vibrant and ever-changing despite the horrors they’d seen. Cheap kitchen light illuminated his blonde hair in a halo. Deliberate breaths, just like every other inch of him).</p><p>((It was the most selfish thing Neil had ever done, looking at Andrew like that, and he hated himself for it)).</p><p>Eventually, Andrew broke from his stillness, and approached him slowly. Expression shuttering down - a familiar mechanism - he tilted his head to the side. </p><p>“Yes or no, Neil?” he asked. The question was the knife twisting in Neil’s chest, and he couldn’t help his sharp inhale. </p><p>Andrew took another step toward him. “Is it a no?”</p><p>Neil said, in barely a whisper, “It’s a no.”</p><p>Andrew stared at him with an unreadable expression for a moment too long, before nodding. He accepted his answer so easily - that was that, promises made and promises kept. Instead, he turned and headed into the bedroom, the door shutting a little too loudly in the ringing silence.</p><p>Neil squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back. <em> At least he won’t be hurt now</em>, he thought dazedly. <em> Andrew will be safe</em>. <em> It’s a no</em>.</p><p>It seemed that he held all of gravity within his heart, just in that moment. Suddenly, he wondered - if this was what it felt like to lose.</p><p>--</p><p>The days afterward were strange, to say the least.</p><p>Neil and Andrew didn’t actively avoid each other, still existing in the same spheres. But Andrew kept his distance, while Neil forced himself not to stare. Occasionally, Andrew would offer him cigarettes, which he either turned down or quietly accepted with a hushed, “Thank you.” They didn’t talk as much anymore, if at all, and Andrew stopped participating in practices entirely.</p><p>Nicky would flash him pitying and curious looks every now and then, while Aaron was happy to continue ignoring him. Kevin’s frustration grew with each ball Andrew just passively let in, the red light of the goal igniting his uniform from the back.</p><p>But it wasn’t messy. Neil knew messy.</p><p>Messy was holding himself together with slippery, bloodstained hands, biting back agony until it could be washed down with stinging whiskey. It was running at obscure hours, always looking over his shoulder, reality always tearing wispy hope apart with snarling teeth.</p><p>Still - </p><p>It was as if everything in the world had somehow shifted over, one or two inches. Nothing fit anymore. The air was always tinged with something melancholy, and Neil wasn’t sure if he could tolerate the sickening taste of it anymore. </p><p>Maybe a month in, with no additional warnings from Ichirou, Neil woke up from the worst nightmare he’d had in weeks. He gasped desperately for air, the afternoon light filtering in through his window nearly blinding him. In an exhausted stupor, he’d somehow fallen asleep while studying, only to fall right back into his father’s basement in Baltimore with hands burst open on dashboard lighters and knife marks.</p><p>Gasping desperately for air, Neil stumbled out of his chair, only half-aware of his surroundings. He didn’t wait to catch his breath, lungs aching and burning as he practically fled from the dorms.</p><p>He tore across campus, barely even noticing the sting in his legs. The pounding of his feet against the pavement drowned out the wild rush of blood in his ears. Nathan’s eyes seemed to follow him everywhere he looked. He ran, ran, ran, until the campus bled into the city, until the city bled into the endless highway.</p><p>Neil didn’t know how long he was running for, only stopping when he felt like he was about to collapse. Gasping raggedly, he fell to his knees, barely registering the pavement digging into his skin.</p><p><em> They’re going to kill me</em>, his sluggish mind murmured with dark amusement when he noticed the darkness of the night surrounding him.</p><p>Sweat rapidly cooled on his skin, chilling him to the bone. Once Neil finally caught his breath and stopped feeling like he was about to die, he started looking around. </p><p>The only other thing around was a 24-hour bar, brimming with light. After a long minute of wondering if he’d rather get up and feel the consequences of his stupidity or just really stay the night out in the streets, Neil dragged himself to his feet, and limped inside.</p><p>--</p><p>Andrew swore that if he ever saw Neil again, he was going to kill him.</p><p>It wasn’t something he’d said to anyone - not even Neil - but he’d made a promise to himself. That night, after Baltimore, after Neil had disappeared like the pipe dream he was into the riots, after Neil had only been able to find out where he was by choking Kevin half to death, he had made a promise to himself.</p><p>That he’d never feel so helpless again.</p><p>So when Neil had gone “missing” and didn’t show at evening practice, the urge to break something was just second to the wave of world-spinning loss suddenly flooding through Andrew’s veins.</p><p>Ever since the day Neil had told him <em> no</em>, Andrew had felt off. He hated to admit it, but it was still there. Almost like he’d lost something when he wasn’t looking, and now there was this hole in his chest that whistled with empty air and lost light whenever he breathed.</p><p>Neil had told him no. Andrew would always respect it, take his answer for what it was. </p><p>Yet - </p><p>There was a harsh lesson Andrew had figured out far too young: that many of the things that happened to him, all the things that were stolen from him and all the parts of him that were broken - there wouldn’t be any good reasons for them. No one would tell him why he had to learn the taste of hell alongside blood and bitten-back truths from seven and onward. No one would tell him why he had to learn the heaviness of gravity and the coldness of empty space before warmth and love.</p><p>So Andrew had stopped looking for reasons, long ago.</p><p>But <em> this </em> - Neil’s sudden departure, the star blinking out of the sky, his slow but steady disappearance from Andrew’s side - he needed to know <em> why.</em></p><p>(<em> What did he do wrong</em>?)</p><p>Neil’s sudden little adventure into no-man’s-land was just the breaking point on top of everything else.</p><p>Andrew didn’t know how many times he’d called Neil by then, the urge to smash his phone into a thousand pieces growing stronger with every passing minute of <em> nothing</em>. </p><p>Only an hour later, after the Foxes had split up to look in every nook and cranny where the rabbit could have possibly gone, Andrew’s phone finally started buzzing.</p><p>He didn’t even look before answering. “Neil.”</p><p>“Oh. Hi. H - <em> ha</em>.” Andrew’s eyes narrowed. There was the muffled noise of loud music in the background, and Neil’s voice was suspiciously slurred, too slow and round for someone as sharp-tongued as he was.</p><p>“Neil,” Andrew said slowly, grip on his phone tightening. “Where the fuck are you.”</p><p>“C-come pick me up? I - ” Neil dissolved into laughter, and the normally brilliant sound quickly turned grating. “I kinda - kinda am <em> drunk</em>.”</p><p>“Give me the address.”</p><p>“Mm. Dunno. ‘M outside. It’s cold.”</p><p>Andrew ran a hand through his hair, shutting his eyes tightly. “Neil - ”</p><p>A sharp noise on the other end cut him off - like the sound of a phone being wrestled out of someone’s hand. Andrew stiffened when another unfamiliar voice began speaking.</p><p>“Hey. Are you coming to get him? Thank God.” The man on the other end sounded breathless and tired. “Listen, I work here as a bartender. I forced your friend to stop drinking before he killed himself with alcohol poisoning. He won’t let me call a taxi or anything. I’ll text you the address right now - it’s to this number, right?”</p><p>Oh, did he really want to just punch something right then.</p><p>“Don’t touch him,” was all he could say.</p><p>The bartender scoffed. “Don’t worry about that at all. I still have a shift to finish and I’ve dealt with more than enough blackout drunks for a lifetime. I’ll keep watch over him for now, but come quickly, ‘kay? Thanks.”</p><p>The call ended with a distinct click. All Andrew could do was numbly stare at his screen for a long minute, until his messages finally buzzed with Neil’s name and an address.</p><p>He was out of the dorm in the next second.</p><p>--</p><p>Andrew had probably broken about a dozen traffic laws on his way to the stupid bar. The noise of tires screeching against the asphalt was too loud in the silence of the night, as he swerved into the parking lot. He got out of the car, slamming the door shut and stalking toward the bar lighting up the street.</p><p>Neil was sitting on the pavement, head pressed pathetically against his knees. The harried bartender paced behind him, head snapping up at Andrew’s entrance.</p><p>“Hey, are you - ” Andrew cut him off in favor of giving Neil’s foot a harsh nudge. The striker let out a long groan in response, doing absolutely nothing to calm the storm roiling in Andrew’s chest. </p><p>“What the fuck are you doing?” he seethed. “Do you have a death wish, you idiot?”</p><p>He ignored the bartender’s, “Well, I’ve had weirder days than this,” and the sarcastic, “You’re welcome!” tossed over his shoulder as he headed back inside.</p><p>Neil lifted his head as the door swung shut, looking around blankly like he couldn’t figure out which planet he was on, until his hazy eyes finally settled on Andrew. A dopey smile broke across his face, too-loud laughter clanging against Andrew’s fury.</p><p>“<em>Andrew</em>!” he gasped. “Oh, you look pissed. <em> Livid</em>.” </p><p>Livid, he was.</p><p>Enraged, at how far he’d let things slip - for Neil to turn up, nearly blackout drunk, on the pavement of some nameless bar thirteen miles away from campus.</p><p>Angry, at just how stupid and reckless Neil had been, trading in security for a shitty glass or ten of whiskey.</p><p>Furious, at how despite everything, Neil could still engulf Andrew in such fire and feeling.</p><p>Instead of cussing him out like he was tempted to, Andrew reached out. Neil stared at his hand like he couldn’t recognize it at all.</p><p>“We’re going home,” Andrew said quietly. “Get up.”</p><p>“You’re - ” He hiccuped. “You’re no fun.”</p><p>“<em>Neil</em>.”</p><p>Still giggling, he tried to lift his arm, but couldn’t get it above his waist. Andrew only watched him struggle for a few seconds before sighing and grabbing Neil’s wrist, tugging him up. Neil gasped at the sudden motion, face collapsing into a frown. </p><p>“Do not fucking throw up on me,” Andrew growled, slinging Neil’s arm around his shoulders and letting him lean heavily against him. Neil began grinning again.</p><p>“Mm. Sorry.” </p><p>The words slipped out like instinct, as naturally as they way their bodies fit together, without making Andrew’s skin crawled.</p><p>“I hate you.”</p><p>Neil stared at him, lips twitching almost listlessly. Something finally pierced through the drunken haze of his irises. Something too broken, too melancholy, too <em> terrified</em>.</p><p>(Andrew wanted to reach out and scoop that sadness away).</p><p>((But how could you save falling stars?))</p><p>“Andrew,” Neil whispered. </p><p>He stared right back at him, pulled and held close by gravity’s endlessly teasing hand. Neither of them moved for a long minute, until Neil breathed, “If he hurts you, how am I supposed to go on?” Head lolling against Andrew’s shoulder, he laughed dully. “I was doin’ so well. When did things fall apart?”</p><p>It didn’t take a genius to figure out who <em> he </em>was. Andrew couldn’t help but tighten his grip on Neil’s hand, gritting his teeth. The ragged hole in his chest only seemed to grow, a black hole eating itself away.</p><p>“Shut up,” he almost snarled.</p><p>Neil’s eyes fluttered, and his smile feel. “I need to know something,” he mumbled.</p><p>“<em>You</em> need to go home and sleep.” Andrew didn’t want to hear what other bullshit he had to spew, and started dragging him away. Neil stumbled, gasping like he was in pain. He probably was.</p><p>“Drew,” he tried saying again, before falling silent. They were halfway to the car when Neil finally asked the question. </p><p>“When did you stop loving me?”</p><p>Andrew froze.</p><p>The black hole in his chest finally collapsed under its own weight. Gravity won its civil war.</p><p>Neil twitched with another hiccup. “I needa know. Pl - mm. When?” </p><p>Andrew stared at him. They were close enough together that he could count each of the constellations that had fallen upon Neil’s cheeks. </p><p>Dimly, he wondered what stars felt like when they died.</p><p>“I didn’t,” he found himself saying - too softly for two people made of jagged edges and black holes and still-beating hearts.</p><p>Neil blinked, slowly, registering his words. </p><p>“Good,” he finally murmured. Andrew couldn’t help the jolt that ran through his fingers as Neil went on, “You never loved me. That’s good. Thank you, Andrew. You - ”</p><p>He trailed off abruptly, face suddenly twisting. Andrew barely managed to turn him away in time before Neil slumped over, gagging and heaving onto the asphalt. Even through the spasms, Andrew held him tightly, holding him up even when Neil’s knees suddenly buckled and went limp. Swearing under his breath in every language he knew, Andrew hoisted the striker back up, yanking his car door open and unceremoniously dumping him in the backseat.</p><p>By the time Andrew came back around with a napkin, Neil had completely passed out. His lips twitched in a slight frown when Andrew reached out and lightly wiped his mouth. </p><p>“Fucking idiot,” Andrew muttered, stilling as he looked down at him.</p><p>Even blackout drunk, with his fractures melting apart into bigger cracks and breaks, Neil was always selfless. Always a martyr.</p><p>He would scoop up falling stars and hang them back up in the sky if it meant giving his family more light - even if it meant falling to gravity’s thrall himself.</p><p>Andrew hated him for it. </p><p>He slammed the door shut and got into the driver’s seat, hands clenching tightly around the wheel as he sped them home. He only stopped to call Wymack once, glancing in the rearview mirror. Neil hadn’t moved an inch.</p><p>Getting their wayward striker up the stairs to their dorm was a hassle, but Andrew was used to messes. He hauled Neil into his own bed, tugging off his shoes and throwing a blanket over him with a huff.</p><p>When Andrew turned to leave, Neil twitched and rolled over. He mumbled something that sounded too close to Andrew’s own name, curling up under his blanket and sighing softly.</p><p>“You idiot,” Andrew whispered again after a long moment of silence. Carefully, he moved to sit down beside Neil, far enough that he wouldn’t touch him, but close enough that he could reach out and brush his hair out of his eyes if he wanted to. If he were allowed to.</p><p>Neil’s words echoed treacherously through Andrew’s head. <em> You never loved me. That’s good. </em></p><p>Leaning against the bedpost, Andrew watched Neil sleep as a tentative peace settled between them, defying their heaviness.</p><p><em> When did you stop loving me</em>, Neil had asked. </p><p>“I meant I never stopped,” Andrew whispered back.</p><p>There was no one else to hear him in that moment - only Andrew and the black hole in his chest, that ate up his words once more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>from tumblr prompts: "can i have one last kiss?" &amp; "how do we fix this?"</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neil woke up with what felt like the worst concussion in the world.</p><p>The light angrily streamed in through the window, washing everything in red and gold. Neil’s head pounded and his stomach roiled with nausea as he took in a deep breath and fiercely hated himself. It took him a minute to get enough strength to try getting up. His muscles twinged, cursing him for not stretching, for running so far yesterday only to get blackout drunk at some bar, and - </p><p>“Oh,” he muttered, groaning quietly. “Fuck.”</p><p>Where he should have been paying attention was only a dark mess instead - a heap of fuzzy  memories just out of reach from grasping fingers, a storm of muddled words, spoken and unhearable like he was stuck underwater. </p><p>Neil couldn’t remember or register anything except for the ragged blankness in his mind and the sudden ache that had flared in his chest. </p><p>It wasn’t the kind of pain that sang from overexertion. It was a nauseating hurt that hollowed out his bones, stretching on for miles and miles with no root like some unnamed, undiscovered sea. A horrible itch beneath his skin that he just couldn’t reach. </p><p>He wasn’t sure what it was, only that he hadn’t felt this empty in a long time.</p><p>Groggily, Neil looked down at himself. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting - maybe blood and open wounds. Only, in their place, was missing light and an aching void: the graveyard of fallen gravity and constellations.</p><p>Neil rubbed at his eyes, then massaged his temples with trembling fingers, as if he would dislodge something from the blackness consuming him, if he just pressed hard enough.</p><p>So lost in his thoughts, he almost didn’t notice the bedroom door swinging open. Neil looked up too quickly and immediately regretted it when his head spun. </p><p>It was just Andrew, holding a mug in his hands and a couple rolls of athletic tape in the other. He raised an eyebrow when Neil froze and met his eyes. </p><p>(It shouldn’t have been possible, but the hurt inside him grew almost a thousands time heavier).</p><p>Andrew looked - okay. His face was carefully blank, scrubbed clean, as it always was - but his eyes were intent as he looked Neil over. The way the morning - <em> or afternoon </em> - light filtered through the drawn shades covered him in tiger stripes of gold, dappling smooth skin and igniting hazel irises to amber.</p><p>After a second too long, Neil tore his gaze away. He focused on his hands instead, biting harshly on his lip. He didn’t get to look at Andrew like that. </p><p><em> Not anymore</em>.</p><p>Soft footfalls against the carpet told him Andrew was approaching him. Neil didn’t move, not even when the goalie stopped in front of him, holding out the mug.</p><p>“Drink this,” was all he said.</p><p>Neil wasn’t sure if he was more grateful or miserable for the false normalcy. Curling his fingers around the mug, he nodded his thanks and looked away. It was black coffee - undecorated and unsweetened, just how he liked it. Neil numbly let the burning heat of the cup shock him back into existence.</p><p>He took a few tentative sips, all under Andrew’s watch. Eventually the silence began to prickle at his skin, and Neil set aside the cup. </p><p>“What time is it?” He was tempted to wince at how rough he sounded, but Andrew didn’t comment on it.</p><p>“You aren’t going to practice,” he said.</p><p>Neil shook his head. “I should at least go see them - ” He tried getting off the bed, only to be greeted by the wonderful and too familiar pain of shin splints the moment his feet touched the floor. Andrew’s eyes widened only by a fraction at the cut-off gasp he couldn’t control, and his hand whipped out to stop him.</p><p>“Sit the fuck down,” he ordered, shoving Neil back onto the bed. </p><p>Defeat sat heavily on his shoulders as Andrew crouched down, tearing off a few pieces of athletic tape almost furiously. </p><p>“Yes or no?” Andrew asked gruffly after a moment. </p><p>It took a few tries for Neil to answer, his throat suddenly closed off. He looked away, fingers tightening and twisting on the bed sheets. </p><p>“Yes,” he whispered.</p><p>Andrew ran his hands almost too gently down Neil’s legs, like he was feeling the damage. He taped up his shins carefully but efficiently, rubbing the tape a couple times so it would stick, before moving on to his other leg.</p><p>Neil couldn’t take his eyes off Andrew as he worked - the way his hair fell into his eyes as he dipped his head down or the way his fingertips ghosted across his skin with every touch. And maybe Neil was a planet shoved out of orbit, because he couldn’t stop the warmth threatening to invade his skin, nor could he stop the dizzying hurt in his head or heart.</p><p>Neil Josten wasn’t strong. He was only ever trying to survive, to hold together a reality that had always been strung together on fraying threads. He wasn’t like Andrew - unrelenting, fierce, still. </p><p>So he couldn’t understand how there could be something so <em> powerful </em>inside him, collapsing and frothing in his chest. He couldn’t understand how he could harbor such cosmic cemeteries within him, or why they only seemed to roar to life when he saw Andrew.</p><p>Andrew, Andrew, <em> Andrew</em>.</p><p>It was always him, no matter where Neil looked.</p><p>He’d once called Neil a pipe dream. Of course, Neil hadn’t truly understood what he’d meant until now.</p><p>Because the hurt ringing in his ribs was more than just pain. It was too fierce. Maybe it was where all his lost light went, after gravity had snuffed it out. </p><p>Andrew was right there, in front of him, and all Neil wanted to do was take back everything he’d ever said or done. Maybe even go back farther in time, and turn the other way instead of running into Andrew’s racquet. Or even before that, and pick another town altogether instead of Millport.</p><p>That way he would never meet Andrew. He would never hurt him. </p><p>And maybe then, he wouldn’t feel this <em> horrible </em>thing inside him, the thing his mother had never wanted him to feel.</p><p>This thing, that felt too close to love, and rhymed too closely with loss.</p><p>“Why are you doing this?” His voice came out shaky and hoarse, and Neil hadn’t even realized he’d broken their silence until Andrew stilled in his movements.</p><p>“So you don’t take another ten years off Coach’s life,” Andrew said calmly after a long pause.</p><p>Neil smiled without any feeling. “Andrew,” he murmured, as the goalie began packing up the tape and setting it aside. “Did I - did I say anything, last night? I can’t remember.”</p><p>(The cruel punchline was - Andrew would).</p><p>He didn’t look back at him or answer, but Neil already knew.</p><p>“Whatever I said, you can forget it,” Neil said quietly. “I’m sorry you had to come and get me like that - ”</p><p>“Neil.” Andrew’s voice was suddenly awfully tight. When Neil forced himself to look up and meet his gaze, there was something too fiery and sharp in his eyes.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I know why you’re doing this.”</p><p>Panic was a thunderstorm that washed away any lingering spring warmth. Neil’s shoulders shuddered with the force of his sigh, and he shook his head.</p><p>“Can you go?” he asked stiffly.</p><p>Andrew stood up but didn’t budge, tilting his head to the side. The crease appearing between his brows was the only indication that those words - they hurt him, too.</p><p>“I don’t need you fighting or choosing my battles for me,” he said.</p><p>“Andrew,” Neil whispered.</p><p>Then, a warm hand brushed underneath his chin, tilting his chin up. Neil stared, and Andrew insisted. “<em>Talk to me</em>.”</p><p>The unforgiving black hole in his chest only seemed to take and take and take. He couldn’t win this war against gravity, not right then. But for once, it let the words well up, as quickly and unexpectedly like blood flowing from an open cut. </p><p>“Andrew,” he said again, helplessly. “I can’t let you go, but I can’t let you get hurt. What am I supposed to do? How do we fix this?”</p><p>His jaw clenched tightly, but his fingers remained light. </p><p>“You get help,” Andrew said, like it was that simple. “You stop isolating yourself. You talk to Bee, talk to Coach, talk to me. Do whatever. You take care of yourself and get back to your stupid stickball obsession. It’s only been a couple games. You can turn things around.”</p><p>“Even if I do that, I can’t - I can’t risk it. Andrew, can’t you understand?” Neil swallowed painfully. “He’s watching every move I make. Every mistake could mean the end. And I’m not making you my collateral damage.” </p><p>“Abram,” Andrew murmured, but Neil shook his head.</p><p>“You - you deserve better.” He trailed off, suddenly keenly aware of the burning and heaviness in his eyes. When had that happened? An apology formed on the tip of his tongue - Neil didn’t <em> cry</em>, why was he crying? Over this? - but Andrew cut him off.</p><p>He moved his hand to rest against Neil’s cheek, palm brushing against his old burn scars. His voice was barely louder than a breath, but Neil still heard him. </p><p>“You should have asked me first,” Andrew said. “You idiot.”</p><p>“And what would you have said?” Neil demanded shakily.</p><p>“You already know my answer.” Andrew cupped his face with both hands, thumbs brushing across his cheeks. He leaned down so they were eye-level, and for one dizzying moment, Neil thought that the force in his eyes was strong enough to hold all the light in the world. </p><p>“I chose you, long ago,” Andrew whispered once he was sure Neil was listening. “I will keep choosing you.”</p><p>Trembles were wracking his body, and Neil knew Andrew could feel them. Neil could barely make out the familiar contours of Andrew’s face, his vision was so blurry. </p><p>Selfishly, as always, he croaked instead, “Can I have one last kiss?”</p><p>Andrew’s fingers twitched. His gaze was harsh and determined, as he whispered, “This is not your last. We will survive.” </p><p>He leaned in and pressed his lips against Neil’s forehead, too gently, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, tugging him close. Neil fell against Andrew, surrendering to his pull. They stayed there, cautiously intertwined, until time gave up on them and left them to their own devices. Neil, on the edge of a cliff, trying not to break. Andrew, holding him together.</p><p>Then, Andrew ran a hand through Neil’s hair, pressing his mouth against the top of his head. </p><p>“I love you. I do,” he breathed. Neil froze, but Andrew went on. “I want you to know that, Abram. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”</p><p>Finally, the tears fell. There were only a few, burning trails down his cheeks as they slipped. A strangled noise came from Neil’s throat, but Andrew only held him tighter and shushed him softly. </p><p>The words weren’t lost. Stars could flicker back to life. Lost light returned.</p><p>They weren’t empty victims to gravity. When they fell, they would rise up again. It was another rule of the universe.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>as requested, a part 2!! </p><p>hope you guys enjoyed this!! please leave kudos/comments if you did! i had a lot of fun writing this lil thing x</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi! this was big angst / sorry about the "open" ending! i might do a second part to this, just of them actually, you know, <i>communicating</i> so let me know if you'd be interested in that</p><p>leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed as those keep me going! and more importantly, i hope you are taking good care of yourselves x</p></blockquote></div></div>
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